איוב יז

My spirit is crushed, my days run out;
The graveyard waits for me.

Surely mockers keep me company,
And with their provocations I close my eyes.

Come now, stand surety for me!
Who will give a hand in my behalf?

You have hidden understanding from their minds;
Therefore You must not exalt [them].

One informs on friends for a share [of their property],
And the eyes of one’s children pine away.

[God] made me a byword among people;
I have become like Topheth of old.

My eyes fail from vexation;
All shapes seem to me like shadows.

The upright are amazed at this;
The pure are aroused against the impious.

The righteous hold to their way;
They whose hands are pure grow stronger.

But all of you, come back now;
I shall not find anyone wise among you.

My days are done, my tendons severed,
The strings of my heart.

They say that night is day,
That light is here—in the face of darkness.

If I must look forward to Sheol as my home,
And make my bed in the dark place,

Say to the Pit, “You are my father,”
To the maggots, “Mother,” “Sister”—

Where, then, is my hope?
Who can see hope for me?

Will it descend to Sheol?
Shall we go down together to the dust?